My future, Aussie-Dutch father in law sent me this info proving that you can be an out and out Aussie but still retain that streak of Europeanism (Is that a Bushism?).

Second is from my possible future brother in law (keep up people). I have been teaching him the ways of craft beer. This involves his massive hangover and the future sister in law declaring me a bad influence (me, a bad influence? Never!). I’m proud of my work with him so far and that this was his email today:

“I was tempted to a pub at Heathrow (terminal 1, the Goose) by their advert with references to “craft beer”. Like a space ship caught in the deathstar’s tractor beam I followed my nose. I thought to myself, “what better way to start a 3 day holiday to Iceland?… with a decent pint!?…. I sat down and requested a craft beer to be told, “sorry, we’re out”. My following three requests were also followed by “sorry, we’re out”. The waiter then shocked me with his next comment, “how about a Fosters?”… Ffs!!… I hope my holiday improves from here!!! I’m now drinking a Stella… 1 notch better than a pint of urine!”

Travel is supposed to be a pleasure! But there’s places peddling Fosters… Tell us your beer horrors and triumphs.